


No One Expects the Talking Car

by KibblerEars



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amused Phil, Cars turned into humans, Christmas, Christmas Crack, Christmas Fluff, Elements of Crack, Fluff, Jealous!Clint, Kermit!Bruce, M/M, Monkey!Thor, Nutcracker!Natasha, Phil and Pepper don't get paid enough for this, Robot!Tony, Romance, Toy Soldier Steve, but tahiti still isn't a magical place, clint's pants definitely are though, magical things happen to magical places, stuffed animal clint, unexplained magical phenomena
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2800442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KibblerEars/pseuds/KibblerEars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Clint finds that he wakes up with more fur than human skin. But, he also figures that just a part of working for SHIELD, and the Avengers. </p><p>Still, is it really necessary for the car to talk?</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Expects the Talking Car

**Author's Note:**

> Feelstide prompt: Magical highjinks: the gang gets turned into toys and have to find a way to be turned back. Can be MCU or AoS, but I really just want Clint to be a stuffed tiger, ala Jim Henson's the Christmas Toy.
> 
> It's...probably not anything at all like the Christmas Toy? But it's more...crack than anything. I apologize.
> 
> Unbeta'd (although I did read it over/edit it myself) so apologies if I missed anything! 
> 
> Enjoy and have a fantastic holiday season!

Sometimes, Clint wakes up with a tail that has a mind of its own as it winds its way around Phil's calf to pull the now-Director of SHIELD impossibly closer in their bed. Other times, he wakes up to a wind storm in their bedroom as wings flap from Phil's back. Or, sometimes, he wakes up with twitching cat ears that truly disorient him because they pick up so much more sound than he's used to with his own partially deaf ears. He's even woken up to see Phil's eyes completely black and his voice dropped an entire octave - and he still refuses to admit to anyone just how hot he found "demon" Phil. 

His point, though, is that regardless of how he wakes up, whatever magical mojo-juju has been placed on him or Phil is _usually_ harmless or minimal and they can _usually_ fix it relatively quick. 

Except Clint always forgets one thing: he's Clint Barton. 

And things always look bad. 

And they almost always feel worse. 

\--

"Phil," Clint tried to groan, sleep still cloaking his voice and eyes, rolling over and stretching before he realized that something didn't feel...right. First of all, his voice had sounded more like a muffled vibration than a word. Second, the bed seemed much bigger than it usually was - which was saying something since normally he and Phil were all over each other vying for space on their queen sized bed. Third, he was apparently alone and he could hear - but not understand - voices in the other room. 

Huffing under his breath, he climbed to his feet, and there was the fourth difference - he had _four feet_. 

" _Phil_!" He tried to call again, but all that came out was a high-pitched, panicked squeaky noise, " _Phil!_ " 

There was the scuffle of chair legs scraping on the floor, followed by the running of feet, and the bedroom door flinging open, "Clint? Are you o-" Phil trailed off mid-question, blinking down at the bed, at _Clint_ , "...why are you a stuffed tiger?"

Clint twisted, trying to see his whole body, and only succeeding in accidentally chasing his own stuffed tiger tail before he spun back around to glare up at Phil, not bothering to try and speak in his stupid squeak again. 

"Right," Phil spoke slowly, telegraphing his every move as he reached out to gently pick Clint up, "you don't know, do you?" Clint allowed Phil to pick him up, only because he was struggling not to panic at the moment. He could sit in a nest for hours on end without moving or having a problem, but this kind of thing still continued to freak him out. Phil's hands curled around his body, completely covering him, and making Clint panic even more because he was slowly realizing just how _small_ he was like this. He also didn't realize that he had started quietly whining, practically shaking in Phil's palms.

"Ssh, ssh, Clint, it'll be all right. We'll figure this out, we always do." 

Phil cradled Clint against his chest, making his way back out into the living room where a strange woman Clint had never met before were sitting on Phil and Clint's couch. "Seems we have more than one transformation to reverse this time." 

The woman, with bright cherry red hair and a near manic smile, jumped to her feet, dancing over to Phil and Clint, "oh my gosh, is this Clint? He's even more adorable!" She reached for Clint, who couldn't seem to suppress the urge to hiss at her as he pressed back against Phil's chest as hard as possible. 

Phil, luckily, caught the hint, and even took a step back from the woman, offering her a soft grin, "he's a bit gun shy, especially when he's been...well. But I'm sure he'll warm up to you once he knows," he turned his grin down onto Clint, "Clint, I'd like you to meet Lola." 

Clint blinked. And then blinked some more. His tail flicked out almost lazily as he continued to just blink at Phil. Because there was no way in hell he had heard that right. No way at all. Phil totally did not just introduce this crazy lady as his damn _car_ turned into a _human_. 

"I have to say," this Lola spoke again, voice far too bright and cheery for this turn of events, "your bottom on my seats is one of my favorite bottoms, Clint. So firm and tight. And you always treat my leather properly, not like that Sitwell buffoon who always tries to eat in me and drops crumbs everywhere," she pouted for a brief moment before she shrugged, "anyway, you're my favorite, after Phil anyway," she bat her eyelashes at Phil and Clint rolled his eyes - or tried to anyway, apparently you can't roll buttons. He was certain if he looked at Phil, his boyfriend would be fucking blushing and definitely _not_ trying to figure out a way to _change them back_. 

"Oh, isn't this just the greatest Christmas present ever," Lola continued, clapping her apparently manicured hands - what the hell was up with that? She was a _car_ last night, how did she have perfectly quaffed hands and makeup? More importantly, how had she gotten to be _that_ and Clint had gotten stuck as a _toy_.

As usual, it looked bad. 

And it felt a helluva lot worse about an hour later when Clint found his newly-plushed self standing on the coffee table in common floor living room, surrounded by a damn toy soldier (aka Steve Rogers), a rather sullen nutcracker (Natasha), a monkey with a set of cymbals in its hands (Thor, and who saw that one coming?), a Kermit the Frog plush (who the hell thought that was a good idea for _Bruce_ of all people?! Clint could have made a fantastic Kermit, thank you very much!), and one of those stupid robotic dog toys (and if you couldn't figure out who that was, you probably didn't deserve to live in _Stark Tower_ ). 

"You're all so _cute_ ," Lola damn near shrieked, cooing over all of them, much to Clint's continued dismay - especially once he caught Phil's whimsical grin whenever he looked at her. Dammit, he should be the one who got that look from Phil, not her. She was just his damn _car_. Clint was Phil's _partner_ , in every sense of the word. 

Clint huffed - grimacing when it came out as another squeak - and plunked down onto his cushioned behind. This whole thing was ridiculous. How the hell could they be the Avengers if they were toys? 

Toy Soldier Steve made some kind of grunting noise that Clint supposed was meant to be words - probably an order of some kind. He didn't really care at this point. He was a damn tiger and his boyfriend was making googly eyes at his damn car. Nutcracker Natasha's creepy-ass mouth moved and the clack-clack-clack that emerged sounded scarily like Morse code.

"I know, Natasha," Phil finally spoke up from his place on the couch - so apparently she was speaking Morse code and Phil could understand her? - "but there isn't a whole lot we can do at the moment. JARVIS took scans of all of you and he sent it to our best scientists at S.H.I.E.L.D. but the best thing we can really do at this point is just...wait." 

"COULD. FIX. IT. MYSELF." Robot Tony managed to get out. He was the only one who could really speak with actual words, from what they had discovered, but he couldn't do so with any of the normal sassy finesse Tony Stark liked to pretend to pride himself on. Clint wouldn't have minded to have some Stark Snark (TM) for once in this scenario, but naturally, it was the one time that Stark Snark (TM) was nowhere to be found.

"You have four robotic arms, Stark," Phil shot back, and Clint could hear the smirk in Phil's voice but he refused to look at his boyfriend still, "and not a single one of them has opposable thumbs. Leave this one to the SHIELD scientists. You guys will be back to your normal selves before Christmas morning. ...hopefully." 

"Oh, goody, Christmas!" Lola _literally_ clapped her hands together like a damn kid excited about Santa fuckin' Claus. Clint didn't bother to try and hide his growl of displeasure. Normally, he liked - or, rather, loved - Phil's car. Particularly when Phil let him suck him off in the front seat. But this human version was driving him crazy with her...perkiness and joy.

Thor began to bang his cymbals - the only way he could seemingly communicate in this form - and everyone, even fuckin' Lola, cringed at it. And that was pretty much the last straw for Clint, who jumped to his paws - ugh, his _paws_ \- and walked in a full circle, glaring at each and every one of them before plunking down right in front of Phil, glaring at his boyfriend. 

"Don't give me that look, Barton," Phil immediately said, and Clint could see the glimmer of amusement in Phil's eyes, so instead of letting Phil finish, he launched himself off the table and onto Phil's lap, climbing up his shirt to cling to his shoulder and growl - well, squeak - in Phil's ear as best as he could in this form. 

Phil went to talk again, but Clint suddenly found himself being lifted into the air and a long, pale finger wagging in his face, "now, Clint, don't be a Grumpy Cat! We'll get you all fixed up by Christmas, which means, presents!" Lola beamed at him and he just glared at her in return. 

Worst. Christmas. Ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Second chapter ASAP!


End file.
